1000 Miles From Nowhere
by TheNewMoo
Summary: Post "Fire From The Sky" - This story has now shifted to focus on Jordan, Garret, and Nigel. Chapter Five added! Where is Jordan going to show up next!
1. Default Chapter

1000 Miles From Nowhere

**A/N : Disclaimer - I don't own Crossing Jordan, or any of the characters in this fic. I'm just using them to tell a story I've come up with. Property of Tim Kring, NBC, Tailwind Productions, and anyone else I've forgotten. I'm not profiting off this, it's just for fun. :) That out of the way, how about we get on with the fic!**

_-- CHAPTER ONE --_

Woody had to admit it. Devan was hot in that little red dress. Absolutely positively drop dead gorgeous.

Not saying that Jordan didn't clean up nicely either, but Devan was much more willing to get dressed up and go for a night out on the town. And she wasn't full of commitment issues like Jordan was. No intimacy issues either - that was nice. He'd actually gotten to kiss her at the end of their first date - dinner at a small restaurant overlooking Boston Harbor and catching a movie at the theatre - and she didn't shy away from him.

Woody had always had a soft spot for Jordan Cavanaugh. The way she looked with her hair in soft curls around her face, in that black dress and those heels - he'd spent many nights watching her spin and dance through his dreams - and taken many a cold shower when he'd been snapped back to reality, right before her lips pressed against his.

But Devan Maguire was different. She was...spunky. Light. You could describe her like a glass of champagne. Tall, blonde, and bubbly. And Woody liked bubbly women. They were more fun to be around. They liked hanging out and trying new things. They kissed after the first date. Kissed a little more after the second.

Kissed real good after the twentieth.

Woody didn't take it any farther than kissing Devan, because in reality, somewhere deep down in his heart, he still had the hots for Jordan Cavanaugh.

What Detective Woodrow Hoyt failed to realize was the fact that with each date with Devan, Jordan pushed him farther and farther away, locking him out of her heart for good.

As the weeks turned into months, Jordan made it perfectly clear to Woody that if he was going to hang with his cheerleader, he wasn't going to be hanging with her. She knew what could happen if she let her heart get taken by Woody, only to have Devan steal him away. But it wouldn't technically be stealing him away, because the brown haired blue eyed farmboy detective was running after Devan like a dog chases a ball.

Garret was the first to notice it happening. Then Nigel. Each of Jordan's "brothers" had taken it upon themselves to keep Jordan from doing three things: Keep her from getting hurt, keep her from hurting herself, and keep her from running.

When Max had left, Jordan had become withdrawn for a while, but the two men had coaxed her out of it. Nigel had taken her out for parties and drinks some nights, other nights Garret had dragged her along with him to smoky little bars and clubs to listen to live jazz and drink scotch, discussing what they were going to do with their screwed up social lives and commitment issues. Woody had tried to get her to come with him, but she couldn't. Her heart was still too fragile. Garret and Nigel were safe. Garret and Nigel came over one night and the three of them sat around in her loft, drinking beers and playing cards until the wee hours of the morning. Garret and Nigel had sat through _Steel Magnolias _with her, in it's entirety no less, and then they'd sat around talking about it, and admitting that even though they were men they too had gotten choked up at parts of it. Woody...she couldn't trust him yet.

Just as she was about to try, Devan came along. And Woody hopped on that train without hesitation, leaving Jordan standing alone on the platform. Part of Jordan was very angry at Woody, but the other part understood. He shouldn't have to wait this long for her. So he didn't. He left Jordan in the dust, and he and Devan hit it off immediately.

* * *

Then Devan was killed in a plane crash. 

Jordan sat at her desk in her office, after the last of the family members of those killed in the crash had left the building. Nigel and Bug had returned a few hours ago, after Garret had told them they had done all they could. The two of them had returned, heads hung low, walking in step as they went through the halls. They were at the Pogue tonight - as many others from the PD and the Morgue were - killing off brain cells and mourning the only way they knew how.

Nobody had seen or heard from Garret after he left the scene almost five hours beforehand, and Jordan was starting to get worried. She rubbed her eyes wearily as she sat at the desk, not having slept or had any real food for the past 48 hours. She must have nodded off, because she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a knock on her doorframe.

"You alright Jor?"

Looking up, she smiled weakly when she saw Garret standing in her doorway, still clothed in his emergency jacket and the same thing he'd been wearing for two days. "I was about to send out a search party Gar. Where've you been?"

"Around. I...I needed some time to myself before I came back here, you know?" He smiled slightly and then sighed, looking down. "You did real good handling things here, Jordan."

"And contrary to what you think, you did a real good job at the site, Garret." Jordan stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt tears spring to her eyes. "She appreciates how hard you guys tried. I know she does." She sniffed softly, then buried her head in his chest.

"Don't blame yourself Jor. You couldn't have known." Garret slid his arms around her back, holding her close to him as he rubbed her back softly. "None of us knew."

"But I was **_horrible_** to her...and her mom...her mom said that Devan thought we were good friends. **_Friends_**. Hell Garret, we went for drinks once. Just once!" Jordan felt tears streaming down her face. "I know better than that. It happened to mom and then it happened to Devan. I shouldn't...I can't end conversations like that. Bad things happen to people when I -- "

Garret kissed the top of her head softly and then lifted her chin so she was looking into his eyes. His own were full of tears, and he just shook his head. "This wasn't your fault. Now let me grab a shower, and we'll head down to the Pogue and grab some drinks, alright?" Jordan just nodded and pulled away, then went and sat at her desk as Garret headed for the locker room to get cleaned up. He came back a little bit later, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "You ready to go?" He asked quietly, standing again in her doorway.

"Yeah." She got up and grabbed her bag and her jacket, pulling it on before wrapping an arm around his waist as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. "Thanks Gar." Jordan whispered quietly once they were in the elevator, resting her head on his shoulder.

"For what Jordan?" He looked down at her as they rode down to the lobby and walked through the empty floor, saying goodnight to Charlie on their way out.

"For not thinking this is my fault." She smiled up at him as they walked to her car. "I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Sure thing." Garret smiled and pulled away, making sure she got the El Camino started alright before heading for his own car.

She waited for him to pull out, then headed out towards the Pogue, him following her. It was a short drive, but normally Jordan would definitely have the radio on - and she'd be singing. But not tonight. Tonight, she needed silence.

So did Garret. He too, had his radio off as they wove through the darkened city streets towards the bar. He knew there were probably going to be a lot of people there, and he needed to collect his wits and nerves about him before having to deal with it all. He sniffed softly, rubbing tears out of his eyes as they paused at a red light. Devan had been a good medical examiner. Sure, she was young and inexperienced in some things, and she'd been pushy as hell, but she was still a good doctor. As they continued on, Garret took a few deep breaths to calm his emotions.

When they reached the Pogue, they had to park on the street because the small lot was full to the brim - and he could count four squad cars at just a glance of the vehicles. He climbed out of his car and locked the doors, before waiting for Jordan to catch up to him. He rested a hand on her lower back as they walked towards the entrance.

"Garret, do you think Woody is here?" Jordan slowed her step and looked up at him as he pulled the door open, the warm air and smell of beer and nuts hitting them.

"Probably." He looked down at her sadly. "He's hurting bad Jor, but stick close to me tonight if there's a problem with him."

"Not planning on moving any farther than this." She smiled up at him as he let the door close behind him. "Wow. There's a lot of people. Oh, there's the crew." She waved over at a booth by the far wall, where Nigel, Bug, Lily, and even Sydney were sitting. "Good, they got the big booth." Jordan sighed softly and walked to the bar, Garret following close behind her. She ordered a beer for herself, then looked at Garret. "And a scotch, neat, make it a double for him."

"You know what your boss drinks. Not neccesarily a good thing." He smiled and then nodded his head at the table. "We'll be over there." There was still no sign of Woody as they made their way through the crowd, Jordan sliding into the booth first and sitting next to Nigel. She looked at Bug, Lily, and Sydney and motioned them to move around on the bench seat as Garret took the spot on the other side of her, naturally.

Jordan liked being between Nigel and Garret. It made her feel very safe, and was one of the few times after the break-in that she really did feel protected anymore. She looked around at what everyone was having. Sydney - just a beer, Lily - a cosmopolitan, Bug had a large draft mug in front of him, and Nigel was sipping off a vodka martini. When the barkeep - Mark, a guy she'd hired after dad left to take care of the place - brought her beer and Garret's scotch over, she thanked him and then raised her beer in the air. "First off, we need a toast. To Devan."

The six of them all clinked their glasses and bottles together, then took a drink. This was going to be a night none of them were going to forget for a very long time.

TBC.


	2. Chapter Two

1000 Miles From Nowhere

_---- CHAPTER TWO ----_

"She always called me 'new guy', even though I hated it. But come to think of it...I really didn't."

"Most demanding lass I've ever met, she rode me for test results like **_she_** was the jockey of the morgue."

"She never stopped looking for answers...even if it did mean taking a nature hike."

"One of the most caring people I've come to know. She had such a good heart."

"A damn good medical examiner and a great doctor."

"She was just...she was Devan."

The six of them had been sitting around their little table, drinking and talking about things they remembered about Devan. Her smile. How pushy she was. When she labeled herself the acting CME and Jordan had wanted to kill her.

Nigel looked around at each of them, his vision slightly blurred due to the alcohol he'd already consumed that evening. Sydney was still drinking beer - but he was also on his third or fourth for the night. Lily and Bug were just talking quietly to one another. Jordan was leaning into Garret's side, his arm around her shoulders. He looked around at the rest of the bar and saw a group of detectives walk in through the bar, filling it to near capacity.

Eddie Winslow and Woody Hoyt being the two men in the lead. Nigel carefully shot his eyes to Jordan, who hadn't noticed them come in yet.

But Garret had, and he took a long look at the young detective who wandered up to the bar and sat, ordering a scotch and then dropping his head into his hands. Woody...was almost like a son to him in some ways. He'd worked with Woody on his first case here in Boston - and the young farm fresh detective had quickly matured into a different kind of man, especially as he chased after Jordan. The way he downed the glass of scotch in nearly one slug led Garret to believe that he needed someone to talk to. "Here, Jor, stay with Nigel. I'm gonna go over and get another scotch and see how Woody's doing." He pulled his arm from behind her neck.

"Woody's here?" Jordan looked up and then over at the bar, sighing when she saw him. "I should go tell him --"

"Jordan, stay put for a minute, alright?" Garret slid out of the booth and picked his empty glass up off the table. "Let me talk to him first." He nodded as Jordan relented and shifted so she was leaning against Nigel.

"Pour another." Woody sat, resting his arms on the polished wood of the bar with a heavy sigh. He didn't even flinch when he felt a hand resting on his shoulder, only looked over as Garret sat on the barstool next to him, setting his glass down and pushing it towards the bartender with a slight nod.

"I'm sorry Woody..." He pulled his hand off the younger man's shoulder and then turned to face forwards. "I know you guys were real close." Garret smiled up at the bartender as he returned and filled his glass of scotch. "Thanks."

"Yeah. We were." Woody nodded, his voice low. "We were getting to be real close. Real good friends." He looked over at the group, sitting around the booth and chatting quietly to themselves. "How're they all doing?"

"Alright. It's hard, but it's still a big shock for us." Garret followed his gaze to the group. "It's tough to lose one of our own again."

"Yeah." Woody looked away from the group and turned his attention to Garret. "How're you doing, Doc?"

Garret let out a soft sigh and took a sip off his scotch, letting the liquid burn down his throat. He thought for a minute. How _was_ he doing? He didn't speak, just sat there, until Woody rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Doc."

Garret looked over at Woody and nodded, then noticed that those blue eyes had shifted from him to Jordan. He turned around on the barstool so he was facing the group, and watched.

Jordan was standing up and Nigel was looking at her with a curious eye as she slid out of the booth and walked towards the back of the bar, towards the restrooms and the stockroom. She didn't make eye contact with Woody or with Garret, and simply went into the stockroom, shutting the metal door behind her softly. Garret figured she needed a minute to herself, and turned to talk to Woody, and was met with an empty barstool. He turned back around and saw him making his way through the crowd towards the back. Garret picked up his glass and stood as Woody entered the stockroom and shut the door behind him, then went back to the table and sat next to Nigel, keeping one eye on the door at all times.

* * *

"God dammit what does it take to get one minute alone around here?! Garret, just go away." Jordan stood on the far side of the stockroom, facing the brick wall and resting her forehead against it. "I'm fine Garret. Just go away, please." She muttered softly.

Woody walked over to Jordan and gently rested a hand on her back. "It's me Jordan."

Jordan nearly killed him on the spot, whirling around and grabbing his wrist, fear racing through her veins. "Dammit Woody! You know better than to scare me like that!" She let out a shaky sigh, running her hand through her hair, trying to relax. For a split second, she'd thought her attacker was back, and about to kill her. She always knew if it was Garret's hand or Nigel's hand on her back, but anyone else was a guess ninety percent of the time. "Don't ever do that again."

"Sorry." Woody pulled away and took a step back, rubbing his wrist lightly. He could tell she was scared, even though she was trying to hide it. "I didn't mean it."

"I know." She shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the bricks. "It just scared me. I don't do well with just being touched, especially if I don't know who it is."

"You thought I was Garret. You know who he is."

"Yeah, I also know that Garret won't bug me if I ask him to go away." Jordan snapped slightly. "And he doesn't just come up and touch me, without saying a word. You should know better. **_Especially_** after the break in."

"Sorry. Just trying to be a friend." Woody shook his head and turned around to leave. "Forget it."

"Woody, wait." Jordan bit her lip slightly. She still felt horrible about the comment she'd made to Devan about them not being friends. She wanted to come clean, and she felt bad for being such a mean person to Woody, when he was hurting too. "I'm sorry. I just...I got scared."

"And I apologized Jor." Woody turned around to look at her. "Then you snapped at me. I just wanted to tell you goodbye."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Goodbye?"

"I'm going back to Keuwanee."

"What?! Why?!" Jordan's mouth dropped open and she walked over to him. "How long are you taking a vacation for?"

"For good Jordan, I'm leaving for good. I've already talked to Eddie about it, and there's an opening with the department that I've already been accepted for. My plane leaves tonight." He shifted on his feet. "I don't have any real friends here in Boston, besides Eddie, Doc, and you. There's too many...painful memories...here. I've lost too much of myself. I'm going to be a sherriff now, like I should have been. I should have just stayed in Wisconsin - then I never would have gone through the hell I've been through."

"So you consider me hell?" Jordan felt anger inside of her. "What the hell did I ever do to you?!"

"You have issues."

"What?" Jordan felt like she'd been slapped in the face.

"Commitment issues, intimacy issues, control issues. You don't drop things when you should, you beat everything into the ground, and everything has to be your way. Take a chance. Let someone else lead for once. You know Devan let me kiss her on the first date? When did you let me kiss you? I can't remember because it took such a damn long time." Woody glared at her. "I'm leaving Jordan. You missed your chance. I followed you around for over a year and you didn't give me anything to hope for. That's why I'm leaving. You're here in Boston, and I can't stand you anymore."

"You know, you're just like her. Pushy, demanding, and cranky when irritated." Jordan tilted her head to the side. "But see, when I told her that I didn't consider her my friend, it was because we hadn't had time to --"

"You said that to her?! When?!" Woody's jaw dropped.

"Right before she left...to get on the plane." Jordan felt tears spring to her eyes as Woody's expression fell. "I didn't mean it Woody. I was tired and she was trying to get me to work right after I just pulled a double. I was borderline homicidal..."

"What did she ever do to you?" Woody shook his head. "Devan was a wonderful, beautiful woman. She was caring, kind, fun...she was everything Jordan. Everything that you're not. You just...I can't believe you." Tears began to run down Jordan's face as he spoke. "You...I'm done. I'm done with you, I'm done with Boston. If you try to call me, don't expect an answer." Woody turned and walked towards the door.

"Woody! Wait! Let me --" Jordan walked after him as he pulled the door open.

"No Jordan. You missed your chance." He shut the door in her face and walked to the bar, laying a twenty down and nodding goodnight to the morgue crew. "I'll see you guys around sometime." He smiled briefly and then exited the bar, not looking back as he climbed into a waiting cab and ordered the driver to take him to his apartment, to gather his things before taking him to Logan, where he would board a plane and leave Boston behind him for good.

* * *

Garret and Nigel just looked at each other, before Garret got up and walked towards the storeroom. The look in Woody's eyes had told him that something was up. He was met at the door as Jordan opened it, a small smile on her face. She yawned and pulled the door shut behind her. "Do you think walk me to my car Garret? I'm exhausted...I really need to get home and get some sleep."

Garret knew something was up, but he nodded and wrapped his arm around Jordan's shoulders as they walked back to the table. She said goodnight to everyone and grabbed her bag and jacket, before turning and heading out, Garret following behind her. Once they reached her car, she put her bag and jacket in the backseat before turning around and finally making eye contact with him.

"What happened Jor?" Garret looked at her sadly.

"Nothing Garret." She stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close to her for a hug. She held it longer than she had expected to, resting her head against his shoulder. As she pulled away, she kissed his cheek chastely and looked up into his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow Garret."

"Alright Jordan. Drive safe. And call me if you need anything. You promise?" He looked down at her and smiled when she nodded. "Good."

Jordan turned and got into her car, then started the engine. She watched as Garret just stepped back and made sure that she made it down the street safely, and she gave one final wave as she turned the corner for home.

As soon as she got there, her mind was in a panic. Everyone close to her was getting hurt. She'd gotten mom killed, Devan, and she'd drove Woody away from Boston. Who was next? Nigel? Garret? Jordan rode up the elevator to her loft and quickly unlocked the door, shutting it behind her. She glanced around and then did a through walk - through of the loft, making sure no one was hiding in it. That's when she remembered the attack.

How he'd forced her to undress. How he'd taken mom's locket. How he'd cut her hand in the fight. Her heart started to pound, and then Jordan knew. There was only one way to get away from the hell she was in right at that moment.

And that was to run.

Frantically, she hurried around the loft, shoving jeans, shirts, shoes and a thick jacket into a duffel bag. _"Call me if you need anything. You promise?" _Garret's voice floated through her head as she threw her shampoo, conditioner, blowdryer into the bag. Toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant soon followed suit. She had no idea why she didn't just call him and cry to him, tell him that she was about to run again and let him stop her. She packed a smaller bag with some makeup essentials and tossed it on the bed next to the duffel. She went into the kitchen to grab a few bottles of water and her energy bars, swiping the Red Sox blanket Nigel had gotten her for her birthday that year off the back of the couch and slinging it around her shoulders. She picked up a picture off the shelf above her TV, smiling at the photograph it contained.

The morgue crew had gotten together to watch the stars up on the roof one night, with Bug's telescope. Something about the planets being in alignment. Jordan was crouched over the telescope, and Garret was standing next to her, while Nigel was pointing upwards, both of them trying to give her directions at the same time. Laughing softly, she walked into her bedroom and slipped the frame into the bag and then looked at her guitar case lying in the corner of the room. Zipping her bag shut, she shouldered it and grabbed the smaller bag of makeup, the blanket still around her shoulders. She set it all by the front door and then walked to the counter, grabbing a piece of scratch paper. She scrawled a note for Garret and left it taped to the guitar case, knowing he'd find it there.

She quickly shut and locked her door behind her, after picking her bags up off the floor. Jordan headed downstairs and threw the duffel bag and blanket on the seat next to her as she slid into the El Camino, turned off her cell phone and pager, stashed them in the glove box, and started the engine.

Running was what Jordan knew how to do best. And run she did.

TBC.


	3. Chapter Three

1000 Miles From Nowhere

_---- CHAPTER THREE ----_

Garret looked at the clock sitting on the corner of his desk. It was already ten, with no sign of Jordan. She was supposed to be in at nine-thirty. Yeah, she was normally late, but she usually would at least try and call. But last night she had seemed so exhausted and worn out - she was probably just sleeping in.

"Hey Boss, I need your help with something in autopsy one...you got a minute?" Sydney poked his head in the door of Garret's office. "I can't figure something out and was wondering if I could get your opinion on it."

"Sure thing Sydney." Garret stood up and stepped around his desk, then walked down the hall, his thoughts and concerns about Jordan pushed to the back of his mind as Sydney filled his brain with words and numbers. He would worry about Jordan later, right now, his job was to find cause of death for the bodies in his morgue.

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"Dr. M. do you have any bloody clue where Jordan is?" Nigel walked into autopsy one a little over an hour later, looking at Garret who was slicing open a liver, Sydney watching him closely. "She's not in her office, did she get called on scene already?"

"She shouldn't be." Garret shook his head and pointed out the scarring damage, brought on by alcohol. "See, the scars are in layers, not clumps."

"She's not here Garret." Nigel stood there, fidgeting. "I've called her cell and her pager and the loft, all with no answer. I'm about to go over and bust down the damn door."

"I'll go." Garret pulled his gloves off, tossing them in the trashcan before going to the sink. "Sydney, get him closed up, we're done. I was just showing you the difference in clump scarring and layered scarring."

"Okay Boss." The young man nodded and then walked to the cabinet to get suture materials. "Will do."

With a nod, Garret followed Nigel out into the hall. "She's not answering anything?" When Nigel nodded, he sighed softly. "She had better hope she overslept with headphones on **_real loud_** if I have to come bust down her door." He grabbed his jacket and keys. "I'll call you if she's not there." He turned and walked towards the elevator, flipping through his keys. Jordan had given him a key to the loft once, just in case something ever happened. As he stepped in the elevator, he leaned his head back against the wall as the doors slid shut.

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"Jordan?" Garret pushed the door to the loft open, and shut it gently behind him. He glanced around the darkened room and noticed the kitchen cabinets were open as he headed for her bedroom. The door was ajar, so he called her name again as he pushed it open.

The instant he saw several pieces of clothing on her bed, her drawers pulled open, he knew. She was gone.

"Shit." He muttered to himself, before going into the bathroom. Yep. Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, blowdryer...and her makeup. All gone. He grabbed his phone off his belt and dialed Nigel's cell.

_"Townsend."_

"Nigel, she's gone. She ran again." Garret tapped his fingertips on the doorframe of the bathroom with a sigh. "She took clothes, shampoo, makeup, everything. Just what she needed and she's gone. Her car wasn't in the lot either."

_"I'm on it." _

"Track her Nigel. It may be quiet, but start tracking her now. We need all the information we can get." He turned around and spied something white taped to her guitar case. "I'll be at the morgue in a few."

_"Alright Garret. I've got it."_

As the line went dead, Garret walked over to the guitar case and pulled off a piece of paper. Turning it over, he read what was on it.

_**Garret -**_

_**I know you're probably about to kill me right now, but let me explain. If you've found your way here and it's the day after the night we had at the bar, I know you too well. Don't be too mad at me, please. I just...I needed some time to clear my head and get away from it all. I've hurt too many people and I'm afraid of who I'm going to drive away next. Mom, Devan, and now Woody. I can't do that to anyone else. Not you or Nigel or anyone. No I haven't been kidnapped, and I'm not hurt.**_

_**I'm not going to tell you not to track me, because I know it's pointless. Five bucks you just got off the phone with Nigel and he's running every search known to man for my credit card and my name. But I'm going to be using cash, A LOT, so don't give yourself a bleeding ulcer and a migrane trying to find me. You're probably wondering why this was taped to my guitar case too.**_

_**Keep it warm for me, Bones. Yeah I know the drums are your thing but I trust a fellow musician with my baby. Take it with you, please? Consider it proof that I'll be back for it sometime. 'Cause God only knows I'd leave it in my loft all by itself only if I was dead or maimed in some way. And sorry I just took off and didn't call you, I know you're mad at yourself right now for not stopping me and keeping me here in Boston, but I just need to figure out what I want and what I need. I promise you I'll call if I need anything. Then again, giving me a raise would probably bring me back too. I'll see you soon.**_

_**Love, Jordan.**_

_**P.S. - Water my plant for me. Not like there's any chance in hell it's still alive, but then at least it's your fault when it croaks.**_

Garret just stared at the letter for a long minute before pocketing it and grabbing her guitar. When they found her...if they found her...he was going to have to have a long talk with her. Explain a few things about the idea of vacation time and it's uses and benefits. He carried the guitar case out and locked the door behind him, then headed back to the morgue.

Once he arrived, he went straight for the office Nigel shared with Bug.

The lanky Brit looked like he was in the middle of a war zone. His desktop computer was running a track on Jordan's credit card activity, his laptop was set on the desk next to that and was running a track on her bank accounts, and he was on the phone with someone. Nigel glanced up at him and noticed that he was holding Jordan's guitar case. "She left...her guitar?" He ran a hand over his face. "This isn't good."

"I'm well aware of that fact, Nigel." Garret sighed angrily and then turned. "Come tell me if we get a hit."

"I will Garret." Nigel nodded as Garret walked off down the hall, Jordan's guitar case in hand.

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_---- Pittsburgh, PA ----_

Jordan yawned tiredly and rubbed her eyes. Sure it was in the middle of the afternoon, but she needed coffee and she needed it now. She'd taken a nap somewhere around New York for an hour, and had driven non-stop like a bat out of hell ever since. Pulling into the Starbucks parking lot, once she'd parked, she opened her wallet and groaned when she was confronted with a single dollar bill. She'd spent the rest of cash on gas and snacks, the wrappers of which now littered the interior of the car. With another yawn, she grabbed her credit card and climbed out of the El Camino, slamming the door shut and pocketing her keys.

She made it into the coffeeshop, ordered her coffee, and handed the barista her card. "Charge it."

_---- Boston, MA ----_

Nigel blinked as the program stopped running, a red dot appearing on the map of the United States it had on the screen. He grabbed at his mouse and clicked on the dot, pulling up the information. He got the address and jotted it to memory, before getting up and bolting down to Garret's office. He opened the door and looked at Garret, who was staring off into space.

"She's at a Starbucks in Pittsburgh." When Garret just looked at him, Nigel smiled. "Mocha soy latte with non-fat whip...?"

"Thanks Nigel." Garret sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Let her run."

"What?" Nigel stopped in his tracks and looked at Garret, confused. "Shouldn't we go..."

"Nah. I trust her." Garret nodded slowly, his eyes falling to her guitar, which he'd removed from it's case and set down on his couch. Softly, he spoke. "Let her run. Just track her and we'll see where she goes. If she gets too settled in one spot, then we'll figure something out. But right now, she's putting as many miles between herself and Boston as she can. She needs to do what she needs to do. Just keep following her."

"Alright." Nigel turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

_"Jordan...why did you run this time...what sent you over the edge?"_ Garret sat with his head in his hands, thinking to himself silently as he rubbed at his temples. What was it. What had Woody said to her that had pushed her over that edge and made her run again? He no clue. He got an idea - he'd call him.

Garret dialed the number for the PD, and when Eddie answered the phone at Woody's extension, he was confused. Until Eddie told him that Woody was gone. Left to Kewaunee for good - back to the department out there. His jaw nearly dropped, before he thanked Eddie and hung up. Woody was gone.

He'd left her. That's what she meant about Woody in the letter. He pulled it out of his pocket and smoothed it out on the desk in front of him, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page. He read over it again. One line stuck out in his mind.

_**I know you're mad at yourself right now for not stopping me and keeping me here in Boston...**_

"Understatement of the year, Jordan." Garret muttered angrily and slammed his fist down on the letter. "Why the hell didn't you call me? I would have come. I would have stopped you." He dropped his forehead to the desk with a sigh, before his pager went off. He didn't even bother checking it as he stood up, grabbing his coat and walking for the elevators. Only when he was crossing the parking lot to the Explorer, did he bother to look where the body was.

He went, picked up the body, autopsied it back at the morgue, and filled out all the paperwork. Nigel had come in once to say that she had withdrawn some more cash in Pittsburgh, but other than that, there was nothing so far. Garret waited around, filling a glass with scotch and sipping off it, sitting in his office, playing a soft jazz album on his record player. He knew it was pointless to sit around and wait, but tell that to Nigel.

Nigel was constantly running tracking on the credit card, the debit card, her bank accounts, hotel, motel, and campground registrations across the country, as well as plotting her course on a large map of the United States that he'd printed up and taped to the glass above his computer. He got a hit, he wrote the time, how long it'd been since the previous one, and where exactly she was. So far, he had three dots. Boston, and two overlapping dots in Pittsburgh. He checked his watch for what seemed like the millionth time that night - it had been almost ten hours since her last hit was reported. "Come on Love...where are you..." He leaned back in his chair, and soon fell asleep.

Garret wandered down the hall a few hours later, and stopped when he saw a blinking red dot on the screen, and Nigel asleep. "Nigel." He shook his shoulder to wake him up.

"I wasn't asleep! I swear!" Nigel jumped up and then rubbed his eyes.

"St. Louis?"

"What?" Nigel looked up at Garret, who pointed at the screen. "Another hit."

"God damn she's driving fast."

"Not really, she's just not stopping often. It takes a little over nine hours to go from Pittsburgh to St. Louis...and according to my time, her last hit was thirteen hours ago." He quickly clicked on the dot and waited for the information to load. "Motel 6, St. Louis." He smiled up at Garret. "Least she's sleeping." Nigel grabbed another dot and stuck it on the map over St. Louis. "There."

Garret nodded with a yawn. "Come on Nigel. She's not going anywhere. Let's get out of here." He pulled on Nigel's shirt sleeve gently. "She's okay. I promise."

"Let me just write this down. Then I'll go."

Nodding, Garret turned and went back to his office, taking a look at the guitar as he flicked the lights off and pulled the door shut, locking it. He walked back down to where Nigel was standing up, having turned off the monitor but leaving a note taped to it, claiming if anyone touched it or turned it off they would suffer under penalty of death. "We'll keep this up tomorrow morning." He smiled at Nigel as they walked towards the elevators. "We're doing good so far."

"Lets just hope she doesn't go silent for a week like she did last time." Nigel laughed as the doors slid shut, then leaned his head against the wall. "I reckon I didn't sleep more than five hours that whole bloody week."

"Same." Garret nodded and yawned again. Once they had made their way to the parking lot, he looked over at Nigel as he pulled his helmet on and climbed onto his motorcycle. "Drive safe. I need to you work those damn computers."

"Yes sir. Goodnight Garret." Nigel laughed as he started the engine, then roared off towards his apartment.

Garret sighed as he reached his car, and unlocked the door. He paused, and tilted his head back to look up at the stars. You couldn't see many from the middle of the city, but the few he could see gave him a little bit of comfort, the fact being that she could very well be looking at those same stars. "Goodnight Jordan." He whispered softly at the sky, before climbing in his car and heading for home.

TBC.

**A/N - Some reason - won't put the line breaks in this chapter. Something about a script error. So you get dashes. Bear with me folks, at least it's an update.**


	4. Chapter Four

1000 Miles From Nowhere

_---- CHAPTER FOUR ----_

_---- Two Days Later - Boston, MA ----_

As Garret walked down the hall towards Nigel's office, he looked up at the map on the glass with the dots. Nothing. No dots anywhere past Pittsburgh. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and looked at Nigel's empty chair. There was a note taped to the computer screen, which simply read:

_**Running Urgent Tests**_

_**DO NOT TOUCH**_

_**-Nigel**_

He had to admit, you didn't mess with Nigel's computer. Especially when they were running trace on Jordan. For the past two days and nights, they'd gotten nothing. No hits at all, not even a withdrawl from an ATM or anything. Nothing. It was like she'd fallen off the face of the earth. Garret leaned close to the screen, lifted the paper to make sure no new dots had popped up, then went back into his office and shot a glance at the guitar that was now sitting on a stand next to his desk. He'd wanted it closer to him and had gone back to her apartment, found the stand, and brought it in. He sat in his chair and looked at it, trying to figure out what she was up to, where she was headed, anything.

"Talk to us Jordan. Let us know you're okay." He muttered softly to himself, concentrating on the guitar. "We're worried about you Jor." Garret found it to be a bit strange that he was sitting talking to her guitar, but her guitar was a part of her, and it felt connected somehow. "Let Nigel find you. Just an ATM or a damn coffeeshop. He's worried sick Jordan, you know he is. He's not sleeping good because he can't stop thinking about you and if you're alright." He sighed softly and leaned back, looking at it. "Just let us know you're okay. Anything. Hell, give us morse code or smoke signals and Nigel will find them right about now."

Garret stared at it for another minute, before dropping his head back and shutting his eyes.

"Oklahoma! Oklahoma City!!" Nigel came tearing down the hall with a piece of paper in his hand and flung himself into Garret's office.

Garret just snapped his eyes open and stared at the guitar.

------------------------------------------------------------

_---- Oklahoma City, OK ----_

Jordan counted out the cash and slipped it into her pocket as she walked away from the ATM, heading back to the El Camino. She slunk into the seat and sat for a minute, staring at the machine stuck in the wall of the bank. She laughed softly and shook her head as she pictured the scene back at the morgue. Nigel was yelling, Garret was stressing, and they were trying to figure out where they were going to find her next. If it weren't for the ATM, they would still think she was somewhere near Pittsburgh, or halfway to Cuba by now. But now they knew she was in Oklahoma.

She rolled her eyes as a man in tight jeans and a white t-shirt whistled at her as he walked down the sidewalk, and after promptly flipping him the bird, she started up the El Camino and sighed as she let it warm up for a minute. The sun was just starting to set, and she had to admit that she felt just a little bit homesick. She missed Garret, missed Nigel...missed Lily and Bug, and even missed Sydney. She missed Woody too, but he wasn't home anymore. He'd left to Kewaunee and was gone for good.

As she pulled back onto the road and headed for the freeway, she slid her sunglasses over her eyes as she drove into the golden glow of the setting sun. She had to admit, it was sorta nice out here. Flat, and full of miles of empty field, but nice. Peaceful. Deep down she felt an urging to turn around and head back to Boston, but she just had to keep driving away, without looking back. And that she did. She had enough cash to get her pretty damn far, and she smiled. It'd be awhile before Garret and Nigel heard from her again.

---------------------------------------------------------

_---- Boston, MA ----_

"ATM in Oklahoma City. She took out two separate withdrawls. That's probably as much cash as she could get." Nigel looked at Garret. "She knows we're tracking her."

"Of course she does. If she didn't she'd be a fool. She's using cash, using fake names at hotels...she knows Nigel. She just doesn't want us to find her." He sighed softly, leaning his elbows on his desk. "Why would she be running west?"

"Maybe a relative...?"

"No. She's never told me of any relatives besides her grandmother." Garret thought to himself. "Maybe...maybe she's going to California. Back to L.A., the morgue out there? She probably had friends from when she worked out there." He paused. "She went out there to get Woody too. Maybe they're going to meet there?"

"Possibly. I'll go refine the search for cities west of Oklahoma City and target within a 24 hour drive. She seems to be sticking to the major highways." Nigel nodded. "You want me to call Los Angeles?"

"No, I'll do it. After I put in a few more calls." There was one call he had to make first, before anything else. "Thanks Nige."

"Welcome Dr. M." Nigel turned and left without saying another word.

Garret watched through the windows of his office as Nigel placed another dot on the map taped to the glass, then smiled when Lily rushed up, out of her office to see where she was now. "Jordan, I swear if you only knew how much we all missed you, you'd be home in an instant." He sighed softly and then picked up the phone, before asking for information in Kewaunee, Wisconsin.

"Sheriff's Department, please."

_"Hold for one moment."_

Garret nodded as the operator clicked off and the number was automatically connected.

_"Kewaunee County Sheriff Switchboard."_

"Ah, yes, I'd like to talk to the chief there, please."

_"Your name sir?"_

"Dr. Garret Macy, Chief M.E., Boston Medical Examiner's Office."

_"One moment sir, we'll connect."_

Garret nodded as he was put on hold, rubbing the back of his neck softly while he waited for the line to reconnect.

_"This is Sheriff John Cmeyla. What can we do for you Doctor Macy?"_

"I need to get in contact with a Detective Woodrow Hoyt. He just recently transferred to your department from Boston, and I need to followup on some details on a case. Do you have a way I can get in touch with him sir?"

_"Let me transfer you to Hoyt's desk."_

"Thank you Sheriff." Garret was slightly surprised, this was easier than he thought. He waited for the line to reconnect again.

_"This is Hoyt."_

"Woody."

_"Doc! Hey!" Woody's voice sounded happier than Garret thought it should sound. "What made you track me down all the way up here?"_

"She ran Woody. Where is she?" Garret sighed softly and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand. "She's gone. Three days ago. She took off after the night at the Pogue. She left a letter saying she hurt you and that's why she was leaving. Where is she going?"

_"No clue Doc. She said some horrible things to Devan, I told her she had issues, and I left. My resignation was already approved by the Chief and everything. I'm done with Boston." Woody paused. "Why would you think I knew where she was going?"_

Garret sat in silence for a moment. "Because you're...you're you. Woody, where is she going?"

_"I don't know Doc. Frankly, I don't care."_

"**WHAT?!**" Garret roared into the phone and jumped to his feet, his eyes locking with the rest of the staff looking at him in shock. "What do you _mean_ you don't care?!"

_"I don't care Doc. I'm done with Boston, I'm done with Jordan, I'm done with dealing with her shit. She wants to take off and run, you guys can handle finding her. You've done it before, you can do it again."_

It took every shred of self control for Garret not to strangle Woody over the phone.

_"I'm done Doc."_

"No shit Hoyt." Garret snapped. "You know what else you're done **_with._** Me. Nigel. Everyone else in Boston you thought you were friends with. Every connection you **had** in this town is **GONE**. You hurt Jordan and then don't give a damn, I have half a mind to come to your little hometown and kick your ass. You can mess with me Woody but the second you entered Jordan's life you were on thin ice. And you just fell through it. And I'm not gonna drag your sorry ass out." He barked at him angrily. "You mess with Jor and you're done. You. Are. Done."

With that, Garret slammed the phone down in the receiver and looked at the now full hallway outside his office. "GET! I don't pay you to stand around!" He snapped, pleased as the hallway cleared and people scattered. He sank into his chair and his eyes fell to the group photo they had taken on Bug's birthday. It was all of them gathered in the conference room, together, with a cake, balloons, and a camera.

Devan's mother had made them each a copy of the photograph after her daughter's death - sort of a way to remember her and to let the people at the morgue know how happy she had been at her job in Boston. He smiled slightly at all of them and then shook his head. A week ago, none of this was like this. Everything was normal.

Garret really liked things when they were normal.

TBC.

**A/N - Sorry if this is sorta short, but five will be up soon, so it'll make up for it. I promise.**


	5. Chapter Five

1000 Miles From Nowhere

_---- CHAPTER FIVE ----_

_---- Three Days Later, Boston, MA ----_

"Please Nigel."

"Nothing."

"Alright." Garret felt his shoulders drop as he headed back down the hallway towards his office. It had been three days since she popped up in Oklahoma City, and he was verging on becoming a walking zombie. His nights had become more and more sleepless as Jordan remained silent. This was not what he needed right now. At all. He grabbed his jacket off his couch and flicked off the lights in his office. In the dim light from the hall, he just stared at the guitar, it's slick surface reflecting the light into his eyes. "Jor...where **_are_** you?" He muttered aloud before pulling the door shut and walking back towards the elevators. "Nigel, go home." He called behind him as he pressed the button and turned around.

The lanky Brit leaned back in his chair and looked down the hall at Garret. "I will."

"Now, Nigel." Garret shook his head.

"You can't make me." Nigel called back and then rolled his chair into the hall. "I'm not going home until I get another location."

Garret felt his shoulders drop even lower. "We'll find her tomorrow. Just get some sleep if you aren't going to go home. Crash in my office if you have to."

"I will Dr. M." Nigel nodded and then rolled back into his station, flicking on a rock cd and turning it up, blasting the music through the halls.

Garret sighed as he stepped into the elevator and leaned back as the doors slid shut. Tonight was going to just be another sleepless night.

* * *

When he reached his house, Garret went straight into his bedroom and changed out of his work clothes, then collapsed on the bed, running his hands over his face and head. He was nearing his breaking point. Nothing was making any sense anymore. He could barely see straight, and he swore that he had lost at least five pounds from his lack of eating. She was family to him...the only real family he had, and he couldn't find her. And that scared him.

"Jesus Jor, you know this messes with all of us. Why do you do this?" He yawned and sunk down on the bed as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. "Just come home Jor. We need you. I need you to come home. Please Jor..." He muttered softly before slipping into a sleep which was to be plagued with nightmares.

_**--flash--**_

_**"Doctor M. I have another hit."**_

_**"Where is she?"**_

_**"In the crypt."**_

_**--flash--**_

_**"No." **_

_**Her body. Cold. Battered. Bruised. Dead. Ice cold.**_

_**"No. She's not dead. She's just missing. She ran and left."**_

_**--flash--**_

_**"I don't care. Find her yourself Doc. I'm done with her. I'm done. I'm done. Find her yourself Doc. Yourself."**_

_**"I know you're probably mad at yourself for not stopping me." Her voice. Her voice in his head. "Mad at yourself for not stopping me. You didn't stop me."**_

_**--flash--**_

_**Her body. "Mad at yourself. You didn't stop me." Her voice.**_

_**The Y-incision. The knife. No blood, just skin. Her body. So cold. "No."**_

_**"She's dead Dr. M. We didn't find her in time."**_

_**Her voice. "Mad at yourself." **_

_**Woody's voice. "Find her yourself. I'm done. Find her Doc. Yourself."**_

_**Her voice. "You didn't stop me." Her body. Battered. Bruised. Dead. Ice Cold.**_

_**"You."**_

_**--flash--**_

"No!" Garret bolted upright, his scream cutting through the dark room, his chest heaving, lungs panicked, body shaking in a cold sweat. Tears ran down his face as he panted, trying desperately to catch his breath and shake the image of Jordan's lifeless body from his mind. "She's not dead. She's alright, she's just in a quiet period. She's alright. She's not dead. She's not dead. She's not dead." He continued to repeat it over and over to himself, trying to steady his nerves.

* * *

_---- Same Time, Phoenix, AZ ----_

"Charge it."

"Name the room will be under?"

Jordan hesistated for a moment, until an idea struck. "Garret. Garret Townsend."

"His relation to you, Miss...Cavanaugh?"

"My best friend." She smiled slightly as the man behind the desk swiped her credit card, waited for it to be approved, then smiled and handed her a room key.

"Welcome to Motel Six, Phoenix. Room 318." He entered information into their computers.

"Thanks." She pocketed the key and her card, then headed out of the lobby. If Nigel and Garret were smart, they'd find her.

* * *

_---- Boston, MA ----_

Garret nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone rang. He shot his eyes to the clock. It was nearly three in the morning. He hadn't fallen back asleep, too afraid to after his nightmares. He reached for the phone, and had never been so happy to hear any three words in his entire life.

_"She's in Phoenix."_

"I'll be there in ten minutes." Garret hung up immediately and jumped out of bed, quickly getting dressed and heading for the morgue.

Once he got there, he bolted down the hall to Nigel's office, and was slightly out of breath from bolting across the parking lot through the snow and down the hall.

"Dr. M.?" Nigel looked up at Garret and raised an eyebrow. "You alright?"

"Fine. Where is she?" He motioned at the computer.

"I was waiting for you to draw it up." Nigel turned around and clicked on the dot. "Motel Six, Phoenix Arizona. Room 318...registered to a Mr. Garret Townsend." He paused for a minute. "It's her card, but our names."

Garret shook his head. "She knows we're tracking her, I think she's trying to tell us she's okay and that her card hasn't been stolen or something." He hoped that was the case. They both sat there in silence for a moment, before another dot popped up on the map. Garret raised an eyebrow and looked at Nigel. "California?"

"San Diego..." Nigel squinted his eyes and clicked on the dot. "What the bloody hell?" The two of them scanned the information that came up, then Nigel looked up at Garret. "Credit card. Beachhouse. One week stay. Says she plans to check in tomorrow."

Garret thought for a minute. This was serious, the next step would be a two week stay, or an apartment in a city on the coast. He didn't give a damn that he was acting a little neurotic - this was Jordan he was talking about. Neurotic was everyday life with her. He thought for a minute, before he knew what he had to do. "Get me on a plane."

"Garret? What?" Nigel looked up at his boss, and noticed the nearly posessed look he had in his eyes. "Garret." He snapped his fingers in front of Garret's face. When he was just met with a glance, he looked at him closely. "Have you slept at all the last few days?"

"A little." At least it wasn't a lie.

"Nightmares as well, huh?" Nigel leaned back in his chair. "I've got them too."

"Get me on a plane to San Diego."

"Only if you go sleep for at least six hours."

Garret looked at Nigel and then nodded. "I'll be in my office." He turned and then looked over his shoulder. "I want to be in California by midnight."

"You will be. Go sleep." Nigel waved his hand at Garret as he walked away, before turning back to his computer and starting to pull up flight information.

Garret walked into his office, shut the door and pulled the blinds, turned off the lights, and went to sleep on his couch.

* * *

_---- Six hours later, Boston ----_

Nigel walked down the hall, avoiding looks from the staff as he cautiously knocked on Garret's door, envelope with e-Tickets in hand. He knocked again when there was no answer, then gently wiggled the handle, raising an eyebrow when the door opened. He quickly slipped inside and took a look at Garret's sleeping form on the couch. "Dr. M."

Garret groggily rolled over and looked up at Nigel, then sat when he saw the envelope in his hand. "When's my flight leave?" He stood up and held out his hand.

"3:49 from Logan, you arrive in Dallas at 7:19. You get on another plane at 8:35 and arrive in San Diego at 9:44 pm. I've made reservations for you at a hotel near the beachhouse, and there's no return ticket. I didn't know how long you wanted to stay, but call me and I can handle it." Nigel handed him the envelope and looked at his watch. "It's only ten. You've got time to go home, pack, shower, whatever." He looked at Garret for a long minute. "Bring her home?"

Garret shook his head. "I can't do that. I'm just going to go, tell her that there's people here in Boston who miss her more than she can imagine, and leave the decision up to her."

"What?!" Nigel's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."

"She needs to be happy Nigel. No matter if it's here or in California." Garret grabbed his keys out of his pocket. "I'll be back in a few days." Without another word, he turned to leave, but stopped dead in his tracks. "I get a two bag check limit, right?"

"Right."

"Good." Garret turned around and picked her guitar up off the stand, placing it carefully in the case and locking it.

"Garret...no. You take her that and she'll stay."

"She needs to be happy." Garret picked up the guitar case and looked at Nigel. "I'll be back. I'll call you tomorrow morning to get room information. Keep me posted if there's any hits anywhere else." He nodded and then left.

Nigel stood in his office for a moment, before heading back to his computer, to keep up the search.

TBC

**A/N: Sorry this update took longer than expected. RL issues got in the way, but six should be along by the beginning of the week. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think, reviews are appreciated. Thanks!**


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